Pick Me Like Your Cotton
by The Silent Dreamcatcher
Summary: When the Uchiha's moved to the south in the 1820's to start up a cotton plantation Itachi finds himself in a place close to heaven. But everything changed when he suddenly finds his head in the clouds and his heart entangled with one of the cotton pickers, on top of that he's about to get forced into an arranged marriage and his secret leaks out... with massive consequences.
1. Prologue

Pick Me Like Your Cotton.

Prologue.

Oh good grief... it was hideous. "Ohhh! Look how _handsome _you are! This way you'll find a lovely wife in no time at all!" The young man looked at himself in the mirror with a scowl on his face and plucked at his new clothes. They were too tight and too loose and too colourful and too bland, he hated them. "Mother, please tell me this is a joke. I cannot wear this, it's ridiculous!" The exited woman scoffed and smoothed out her own new dress. "Now honey, your father paid a lot of money for these clothes, it's the newest 1820's fashion! We have to make a good impression in this town, and at the ball tonight we get the chance to make people notice us and our standing. Now go clean up and I'll see you for dinner." With that she picked up the long white skirt and left the room.

Itachi sighed and inspected himself some more. This was fashion? How? Who made this up? Could there really be such a massive difference in style between the north and south? It was not only uncomfortable but ugly too, why on earth would he wear white socks up to his pants, which started knee-high. He just couldn't find the logic in it, it was impractical! And why was the crotch so low? He could live with that though, but not the colour, they were red, bright sodding _red _for Christ sake! And the jacket too! What was the point of a jacket when it started halfway up your chest at the front and went up so high it practically chocked you, and reached down so low at the back it reached your knees. He longed for his long, baggy trousers and blouses, but at least she hadn't forced him to cut his hair… yet. So he pulled it together and tied it into a low ponytail.

He'd hated moving to the south so his father could waste his money on a cotton plantation, the man probably just wanted to take advantage of the slave women. He himself had no interest in the weaker sex, they were useless creatures that did nothing but create drama wherever they went, want attention and cost money. At least, that had always been his experience with them. Honestly, his mother dragged him to town with her when he was younger all the time and he would be amazed at how much she would spend… but only on herself, and if he asked for a dollar to go buy some candy he was suddenly a horrible child that was only profiteering off of her. That was another thing he hated about them, the damn mood swings, one moment they're happy the next they're mad or crying. And over nothing, because he didn't notice they were wearing new shoes.

Talking about shoes, he hated these new ones. All black and lacquered and they even had a short heel under them. He wondered if she'd dressed his little brother up the same way. "Ahem, brother?" at that moment Sasuke opened the door and entered. Yes, he looked as ridiculous as he did, only in blue. "She dressed you up too huh? What happened to your hair?" The boy gingerly touched his waxed and combed down hair, groaned and tried to fluff it up a bit. Poor kid, he always loved having his bluish black hair up in messy spikes in the back, and without his trademark look he was just a copy of all the other little mommy's boys around here. He'd seen a whole group of them marching to school while the two of them were having a picnic in the high grass next to the roads on one of the first days they were here. It was like seeing an army of brainwashed zombies… scary.

They'd moved here a week ago, the huge wooden country house was a bit intimidating at first, he kept getting lost the first few days, but he enjoyed the privacy the hidden hallways and secret rooms offered him. There was one room in particular he liked, it had a large bay window that was hidden behind the thorny rose bush at the back of the property, and overlooked the estate's fields. The walls were covered in bookcases so high that one would need a ladder to be able to access the books that were kept at the top. There was a large fireplace they never lit, but it added to the hidden atmosphere. There he could sit, watch the world without being seen, and read a book or school his brother. Ever since they were little the boy had depended on him. Since their father was always busy working and their mother always living in her own little fabulous world and too busy shopping and bitching at the maids to overlook her sons, they had been left to their own devices for as long as he could remember.

Itachi stared down at the 12 year old copy of himself, despite their six year age difference they were completely in tune; Sasuke knew when he was in the mood to talk, and when he should be left alone. The boy was quiet, like he was. They could be frivolous together, teaming up to unravel an interesting piece of literature or mind boggling math problem. But they could also be serious, he made sure to keep Sasuke up to date on the political issues running amok in the country, and made him read the weekly newspaper every Sunday. And while it was a secret, Itachi also made a point to train his little Sasuke in at least a basis of martial arts. His father had made sure to pass that piece of their Japanese heritage onto him, and he would do the same.

There was no time for him to retreat to the study room now, however. So he splashed some water from the basin next to the mirror on his face and the two of them headed downstairs for dinner. It was stiff and awkward, as always. Their father ate alone, in his study, and his mother spent at least half an hour in between bites to complain about the quality of the food. Sasuke had commented on this behaviour once, asking her why she didn't cook instead if she didn't like it. Their mother had nearly busted a tit; apparently that's not something a woman of her standing does. As the maids cleaned up they pulled on their overcoats and waited for their carriage.

On their way to the ball they rode past the still-bare cotton fields and a long row of picking slaves that had just arrived and were being brought in for inspection. This might be a long night, but tomorrow they could watch the seeds being sown and experience the southern wonders of slavery… for the rest of the trip he sank in his own thoughts and by the time they arrived he was prepared to take on all the desperate mothers and their hideous daughters too.


	2. Chapter One

Pick Me Like Your Cotton.

Chapter One.

Why on good mother earth had he agreed to this? The balls in New York had been horrible enough, but his… this was hell. There were too many women, and they were all chasing him. Not that Itachi could blame them, with the regular supply of butt-ugly and partially mentally retarded men his presence must be a much needed breath of fresh air. But they were no less disgusting themselves, all the tales of rural, fairylike beauties had obviously been lies. One after the other these trolls threw themselves at him. Their skin was ghastly pale and covered in pimples; they spent all the time outside under a sunshade to preserve the white skin they had been blessed with at birth. He couldn't imagine anyone to find it even the least attractive, they just looked sick to him. He wondered if they ever looked into a mirror, the double chins above a wasp's waist just made them seem oddly disproportional. He'd seen his mother try and press herself into a corset once, luckily she stopped that after 'the incident' and simply let her body show the way it was now.

He tried, he really did. After all, the outside wasn't all that mattered. But no. They had nothing interesting to say, he didn't _care_ about the latest gossip just like they didn't care for classical music. It was a waste of time.

There came another one, a blonde this time. Why did they do their hair up in such weird ways? It looked like a giant wasps nest on top of her head, must've taken a long time to do it up that way. He could tell it was a bland shade of blonde under all the white powder they'd put on it, or maybe it just looked that way. Another thing he couldn't understand, why all the powder? They powdered their hair, their face and god knows what else. He knew that it was fashion, but he just didn't get the appeal. "Would you sign my dance card? A waltz is coming up and I'm sure you can't refuse that!" she held out her gloved hand and giggled. It was the most horrible sound he'd ever heard, so overly fake and forced. Then she fluttered her eyelashes and tried to grab his hand.

Itachi took her hand and bowed, making her swoon before he politely declined. The he turned around and walked away, wondering what Sasuke was up to. The large ballroom of the estate had doors on both sides, one set that lead to the entrance hall, and one set that lead to the large balcony in the back. He made his way to the horrible pink doors and closed them shut behind him, so it wouldn't seem as an invitation to anyone else.

The large stone balcony was empty save for a few large planters with pink tulips in them, honestly, even the massive chandeliers were painted pink. Something was wrong with this place, probably a woman running the household. He leaned over the thick stone railing and saw a small step he could easily use to get down and into the garden. The balcony was only a few feet high.

"C'mon kitty, don't be shy!" said a wiggling butt that stuck out from one of the large rose-bushes in the extravagant garden. "Sasuke. Compose yourself, you'll never lose your nickname this way." Even since the boy was a baby he'd thought the resemblance the boy had of a kitten in his ways was uncanny, which is what he still called him sometimes. Their mother was leaning over one of the windowsills and frowned at him. Why must she always keep an eye on him? It's not like he'd up and run away, he had nowhere to go. His little brother crawled out from under the bush with a red blush and stammered an apology, but Itachi was looking back to see if the woman was still there. She was gone, some other gentleman must've asked her to dance, certainly not his father, they hadn't spoken in years. "I'm sorry brother… I thought I saw a cat, and since we were never allowed to have one…" "It's fine already, come and sit with me."

They spent the rest of the afternoon hidden under the balcony and shielded by the large bushes. "Itachi? Why don't you want to dance with any of those women?" Sasuke asked when the sky was starting to turn pink and they knew they'd have to leave soon. Itachi thought for a minute before answering. "Is there anyone you like, little brother?" "No."  
"Well me neither, and those women here, are here because they can't find a man out in the real world. The failures of society, ugly, uninteresting women and boring, weak and useless men are brought here as a matchmaking of sorts. I have no desire to be chained to a woman like our mother, and definitely not to one that wants to get married simply for the cause of being married and who would marry any man. They prefer me because of the family fortune, which is why I despise them. Besides…" his eyes turned glassy as he stared off into the distance, "You should be picky when choosing the person you'll spend the rest of your life with. If I ever were to get married, it would be to someone like me, with whom I can talk about things that interest me without having to explain everything. Someone I'd love."

"I see, that really makes sense… I don't think I'd want to get married just like that either." Sasuke plucked a small orange flower from a mainly pink bush. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we weren't rich." He muttered.  
"What do you think it would be like?" Itachi asked him, his tone wasn't scolding, just curious.  
"Well, we'd still be in New York, and I would go to school. You would have a job and mom would be a housewife… I think it'd be nice." "We'd probably be living in a tiny apartment though."  
"Yeah," Sasuke responded sadly, "Mom would hate me even more if she was stuck with me all day."  
"What makes you think that, Sasuke? I'm sure she loves you, you're her little baby after all."

He shook his head, "Only around you. When you're not there it's like I don't exist to her, and I know why." He fell quiet for a bit but when he spoke again his voice had turned cold. "She never wanted me. I know about the other baby, the one who died? She wanted him, not me. She told me so herself, that I was an accident and that everything would be better if I wasn't there. But she'd never act like that in front of you."

That woman… how dare she! Sasuke was the best thing that ever happened to him and she hurt him! She hurt him and told him things like this. No. He wouldn't have it. Itachi got out from under the balcony and pulled his brother out too, patted the dirt of his clothes and they headed up the step. "Let's go home, I've had enough of this place." They entered the ballroom where the last guests were leaving and their mother rushed to them with a fire in her eyes. "Where were you?! I looked all over for you young man! Now come, we can still introduce you to some of the eligible ladies!" she tried to grab her eldest son's arm but he evaded her. "Sasuke, go wait in the carriage. Mother, I need to speak with you out outside." His voice was cold as ice, his eyes emotionless.

And now she was crying. They were on the way home and the road was as bumpy as it was before, but this time he enjoyed himself immensely. Sasuke seemed a bit worried at first at their mother's weeping but when Itachi didn't seem to mind it and even told him all kinds of stories about the things they drove past it soon stopped bothering him too. "And that church was the first thing they built here, before anything else; the people actually lived there while they were still building it." Itachi was feeling good. This was a nice town, he'd had a nice talk and now the horrible woman was crying nicely. He couldn't say he ever loved her, but he'd endured her and felt something for her, at least. Not respect, she was a profiteering, money grabbing whore. But a faint feeling of kinship, she gave birth to him after all.

But now even that was gone, he didn't hate her, she wasn't worth the effort of hating, she'd just lost all meaning she ever had to him, and he'd make sure the same would happen with Sasuke. They didn't need a mother like that, all they needed was eachother. He needn't speak to his father about what'd happened, and he knew his coward of a mother wouldn't. That night he slept like a rose. The next morning the maids opened the white curtains that kept the room shrouded in darkness and the warm sun woke him. Sasuke took a little longer than him to get up, as usual, so by the time he was already fully dressed in baggy brown pants and a loose white shirt the kid finally rolled out of his slumber.

"Finally awake? Get dressed, we're going out." Itachi briskly stepped into Sasuke's room and opened the curtains the maids had left closed, at his little brother's demand. "Hmnyehh… this early?" after giving an affirmative answer Itachi helped his little brother into an outfit similar to his own. When they ventured into the kitchen to grab a lunch to-go a woman who was obviously a slave was already packing a basket for them and after adding the last sandwiches handed it to the eldest of the two. "Good morning miss, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, my name is Itachi Uchiha and this little thing here is Sasuke." The woman nodded at him but didn't look him in the eye; instead she smoothed out her round, white apron. "Right…"

On their way outside the fresh supply of new staff became apparent, the mansion was filled with bustling activity, all women dressed in the same outfit the one in the kitchen was wearing. They wore blue checkered dresses that reached up to their necks and down to their knees and had their hair up in identical buns, and Itachi couldn't help but notice how they were physically quite large. "Let's go." With in one hand the basket and his other in his pocket he stepped onto the porch and jumped down the first steps, followed suit by his brother. "Itachi… did elephants come through here?" "What?" "I read in one of the books that in Africa there's large paths made by elephants, and a drawing seemed similar to this path right here." He pointed at a brand new path leading past their house to the plantation. "The slaves must've made it when they arrived last night. We'll go check it out after lunch."

They walked down the road to town in silence, simply drinking in the warmth of the sun and examining their ever-changing surroundings. Sometimes the wind would force the high grass and grains to bend all the way to the ground, and occasionally they would whip back up, only to be pressed down again. On other days there would only be a mild breeze and the thick knots of grain would move with it, forming patterns that moved around on the field. They could look at it for hours. But today there was hardly any wind, and no clouds either, the sun hit the yellow stems full on. It was like they were walking past a field of sparkling gold. After a while Sasuke broke the silence, "Why did you make mother cry?" Itachi stopped walking and decided that this would be a fine place to have lunch.

The basket was packed with all kinds of sandwiches, a large glass bottle of milk and a container of still-hot tea, this was a pleasant surprise. Itachi, who normally made the lunches, was well trained in the art of conversation, taught how to plan and scheme from the time he learned to walk –which earned him numerous undeserved cookies– and was an aspiring businessman and diplomat. But no one ever taught him how to make proper sandwiches. Usually he'd just chuck a lump of bread, jar of jam and bottle of water into the basket, which fed them well so that was never a problem. But these sandwiches had four different kinds of jam on them and some even thin slices of meat, and they were cut so perfectly! "We need to thank that maid for such nice lunches when we get back, here, eat something."

Sasuke hadn't sat down yet. "You didn't answer me." Itachi sighed, and when he looked up at his little brother he suddenly felt tired. The boy looked down at him with a frown and a spark in his eye that was only there when he was angry, he loved that spark, and wanted to be there when one day it'd be ignited in an all-consuming firestorm. The thought made him smile. "What are you laughing at? This is serious!" the spark grew in strength for only a second, but Itachi caught it. "I was just thinking… they taught you about riots and rebellion at school right?" "Yeah, so?" "Well, often people are repressed for so long that their oppressors have forgotten that people can never completely be broken. No matter how often their souls get trampled on and their wills destroyed, inside a feeling is building, do you know what I'm talking about?"

The boy scuffled his feet for a moment before nodding and sitting down, he'd learned long ago that his brother would never cut straight to the case, instead he unravelled facts in a way that he could understand them and figure things out. "That feeling of things being unfair, of being used and treated in a way they didn't deserve slowly starts controlling their mind, until all they can think about anymore is to get away, to make things right, to destroy those that destroyed them." He paused for a minute. "I don't want that to happen to you."

And they ate their sandwiches.

Itachi could see that his brother was thinking, he could read the boy perfectly since the kid had never been put through the rigorous trainings he'd been, nor the beatings that were punishment for imperfection. "What's on your mind?" The eldest of the two knew that the boy was bright; of course, he made sure to boggle the boy's mind at least once a day to keep him sharp and to teach him how to make connections and think clearly. But still, the child was only twelve, and while other twelve-year-olds were busy discovering the other sex and pulling pranks on eachother his little brother just seemed to grow brighter every day, asking him questions he himself sometimes didn't think to ask, and pushing through until he got a satisfactory answer.  
"Why do you stand up for me to mother, but not for yourself to father? Every time you've been with him to business meetings you seem so drained and sad, brother, it upsets me." Itachi smiled, it was true that the path his father had chosen for him was not one where his heart lay, but I was a profitable one, and without money and connections one would get eaten by corporate sharks.  
"I prefer taking on one battle at the time."

The sun was mild, compared to his homeland, and after having been stuck on the wooden horror the white men called boats for so long Kisame was glad to be outside again. The previous night had been the best in months, he actually had a bed and instead of a few hundred there were only eight other people residing in his new 'home' he supposed he should call it. The one downside to this resort was the heavy metal band around his neck; the white men said it was so that if he ever ran away they would know who he belonged to. He scoffed at that. Compared to the man that was supposed to be his owner he felt like a giant, he was at least two heads taller than him, and one of his arms was about as thick as both this man's legs together. He could squish him.

But the white men had whips, and he saw some other slaves working in the harbour that were missing a hand. Slave. He heard it a lot since he was captured, but still wasn't completely clear on the meaning of the word, everything was so different here. The people were so tiny and pale; they probably didn't eat much healthy food, or stayed inside all day. He had a cousin that stayed indoors for years because he was sick and he slowly turned grey.

They were walking in orderly fashion; they put shackles around their wrists, probably to keep them from running off. Not that he would, he saw how one of the white men slashed the skin of a fellow slave's back with their whips when they caught a runaway. Two others held him in place and laughed. He didn't really understand why, being a warrior of quite the standing in his native village. He, too, enjoyed tearing skin. But not in such a way, there was no satisfaction to be found in hurting a chanceless prey. He liked them running.

They walked over a muddy part of the path and he looked down to see how the brownish-grey substance bubbled up between his toes and got giddy at the feel. "I wonder where we're going!" he said to the woman in front of him, who turned her head to stare at him as if he was crazy, and he smiled at her. Another thing about this place, everyone was so moody! Sure he'd rather be at home, with his wife and two sons, but they were gone and the food here was good. After a few minutes of walking they came to a large, empty field and they were all unshackled. One of the white men handed out satchels to them and told one of the older slaves, one that'd been here for a while and spoke the language what had to be done and he showed the others.

"Excuse me, I'm not really cut out for this kind of thing, I'm more of a log-carrying guy?" the white man he spoke to – he really needed to find out what to call them– stared at him incredulously and raised his whip while shouting something in that odd language they all seemed to speak. "Ah, no other positions are currently available? That's fine too!" sowing it was.


End file.
